


It Won't Eat A Pickle

by thisiswherethefishlives



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/thisiswherethefishlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After six months of blissful dating, Fitz has to cope with the realization that Mack doesn't seem to want to bring him home. It's unnerving and more than a little upsetting, because either Mack has something to hide or he's just not that into Fitz...</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Won't Eat A Pickle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isisanubis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isisanubis/gifts).



"I'm telling you, Jems. This one is a keeper."

There's a breathless quality to Fitz's voice that even _he_ can hear, but it feels right that it's there. He's met _the one_ when he least expected to, and for once in his life he didn't scare them off within the first three dates. Or, really, the first hour. It's an invigorating experience, being with someone that seems to like Fitz just the way he is - with his awkward social skills and multitudinous degrees... the things about him that usually either annoy people or intimidate them haven't done this relationship in, and for the first time, Fitz has someone that he wants to keep.

"Ooooh! You didn't mention a serious romance, Fitz!" Jemma's voice has gone sweet and shrill in her excitement, which isn't a great combination with their questionable Skype connection, but it's the best they've got for now. "Tell me about your paramour!"

" _Well_ ," he pauses, just for a moment to draw out the suspense before barreling on, "his name is Mack, and he runs the local garage. He's brilliant, Jems. So, _so_ smart and gorgeous and kind."

He can see how excited she is to hear this. It should be a little more concerning how invested Jemma is in his love life, but she's been with him through it all. From the painful breakups to the bizarre first dates, she's been the one to help pick up the pieces with reruns of Star Trek and gallons of ice cream. She's the best friend a guy could hope for. The best friend Fitz has ever had.

"How did you meet? Does he live near the campus? Oh! Have you kissed? Tell me you've kissed! Tell me everything - did he bring you back to his place? Is it nice? Is he _big_? Oh, why do you have your sad face on, is he _small_?"

Jemma's genuine concern over the size of Mack's... well, Mack's size, makes Fitz want to laugh, aside from the fact that her mile-a-minute questioning has hit a sore spot the size of Mack's... well, his hands.

"No, Jems. It's not what Mack's packing. Honestly, we haven't even gotten that far yet. It's just... I don't actually know where he lives?"

"He hasn't brought you home? I thought you said that things with your Mack were serious."

"Well, you're the one that said it was _serious_ , Jemma. And, who's to say that it isn't serious just because I haven't been to his home? Maybe... maybe it's just not important to him?"

There's an unspoken thought there that Fitz has been trying to keep at bay for months now, but from the way that Jemma's eyes sharpen it's clear that she's caught on to his anxiety.

"I don't want to bring you down, Fitz... but how long have you been seeing this man?"

"We've been going out for about six months? I didn't want to tell you about it earlier because I didn't want to jinx it, but..."

He can't bring himself to finish the thought, because as wonderful and as kind and as tender as Mack has been with him, they've been seeing each other for six months and Mack has never once brought Fitz home. The realization hits like a punch to the gut, leaving Fitz nauseous and a little broken hearted.

"Fitz, I think you need to speak to this Mack. I don't think it's normal that you haven't seen his home. What if he's got a secret family? What if he's a serial killer? Or _worse_ , what if he's a tea party republican with all those little political signs on his lawn?"

“I’m fairly certain that it’s not any of those things. At first, I thought he lived above his garage, but he rents it out to one of his mechanics. I’m… I’m not sure what’s going on, Jemma. I’ve never had a relationship last this long, and he’s been cagey about his home since the beginning. I guess I didn’t want to push it.”

“Oh, Fitz.” Jemma’s voice is heavy with concern. It’s the kind of mothering tone she only gets when she’s especially worried about him, and it never fails to make Fitz’s skin crawl. “My mother always says that a man’s house is his castle. If this Mack character isn’t willing to take you to his castle, he’s not the king you’re looking for. That being said, I have to get back to my samples before my assistant does. I honestly can’t leave that man alone - the last time I let him run the lab he nearly set off the fire alarms.”

“Bye, Jems. I’ll talk to you next week, alright?”

“If you need to talk before then, you call me up, alright?”

It’s clear from the tender way that Jemma’s speaking to him that she’s anticipating a breakup… and it’s with that thought lodged in his chest that Fitz waves his best friend off and ends the call. He… he had started off so optimistic about this relationship. He had been excited to tell Jemma about Mack, but instead he feels like a fool.

How serious could things really be with Mack if the other man didn’t want to take him home?

Jaw aching from the frown that’s etched it’s way across his face, Fitz allows the past six months to run through his head. Every kiss, every hand held… every promise for another date… as wonderful as it all was, for every positive, glorious moment, there was a kink in the chain that just wouldn’t smooth out. Nights where Mack would insist on heading home alone. Awkward pauses when making plans, and the way that Mack would pull back when talk would circle back to where they should meet up. How they always met at the garage, even on days when the garage was closed… even when it was clear that Mack was going out of his way to go to the garage, just to avoid Fitz picking him up at home.

With a cold, sinking feeling in his gut, Fitz shuts down his computer and crawls into bed. He’s got classes to teach in the morning, after all, and plans to meet up with Mack after that.

Sleep pulls him under slowly, and if Mack walks away from him in his dreams… he won’t remember in the morning.

* * *

Work, for lack of a better word, sucks.

It’s a miserable task to pull information and conscious thought out of the minds of nineteen year olds who all look more than a little hungover. Really, it’s shameful. It’s certainly not the first time that Fitz has felt like an outsider on a college campus, but it’s always a little disappointing that he still feels like this even as a professor.

Alas, this is what he signed up for. A shot at a real career, with decent health care to boot. Straight out of his graduate studies, it had seemed like an interesting endeavor - travel to far-off places to mold the minds of the future and get paid while doing it. Of course, the far-off places had ended up being Colorado Springs, the young minds were lacking, and his pay wasn’t actually that great.

Of course, it could be his failing love life that has Fitz in such a foul mood… that, or the fact that the campus cafe can’t make a decent cup of tea to save his life.

He’s in the middle of mentally preparing himself for a shitty tea experience when broad, warm hands grab him my the shoulders. Were anyone to ask later on, Fitz would confirm that the squeak that came out of his mouth was both manly and impressive. He did not, at all, sound like a mouse on helium. Any students reporting otherwise would be failed on sight.

“Hey, Turbo. I know we had plans for later, but I wanted to see how my favorite engineering professor was doing on this beautiful day.”

With a ragged breath, Fitz gathers his wits and turns to face his potentially ex-boyfriend with a withering glare.

“First of all, you scared the daylights out of me. _Second_ of all, it is snowing. Again. There is nothing beautiful about the amount of snow we’ve been getting, and don’t you give me that look - I don’t care that we’re in Colorado. I’m moving somewhere warm as soon as my contract is up.”

The way that Mack smiles at that, as if Fitz said something funny rather than something obnoxious… well, it knocks a few things loose in Fitz’s chest. It’s almost enough to wipe away all the doubt and anxiety that’s been chasing after him all day.

“C’mon, Turbo. It’s not that bad. You know that I’ll keep you warm.”

“Unless you plan on keeping me warm at your place, I don’t think that’s something either of us will be looking forward to in the future.”

_That…_ well, Fitz hadn’t meant for all of his feelings to fall from his mouth all at once in a glorious explosion of social anxiety and nerves… and yet, it had happened. Risking a glance at Mack, Fitz finds his mood dropping even further at the look on Mack’s face.

It’s not a good look.

“What are you saying, Fitz?”

Oh, now Mack’s not calling him Turbo anymore. Fitz can feel the breakup looming above them like a physical force, but now that he’s started he can’t seem to keep his damned mouth shut.

“I’m saying that it’s been six months, and you still haven’t brought me to your place. Either we’re dating or we’re not, and lord knows that I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, but I do know that something is _wrong_ when you don’t feel comfortable bringing your boyfriend home with you.”

The words fly out so fast that they leave Fitz panting at the end, slightly dizzy from the emotional word vomit, and more than a little nauseous over the closed off look on Mack’s face. Of course, that’s when the barista calls Fitz’s order, effectively giving him an out from the inevitable misery that will follow when Fitz never gets to kiss Mack again.

In his twenty-six years of life, Fitz has never known anything as wonderful as kissing Mack.

This breakup is going to be horrible.

With a level of self-control that he frankly didn’t realize he had before, Fitz turns away from Mack and heads over towards the condiment stand, each step feeling heavier than the last. He’s mixing his tenth packet of sugar into his takeaway cup when those damned hands are back on his shoulders. It feels like a personal betrayal when his body sinks back into Mack’s warmth, but the idea that Fitz may not _have_ this anymore is enough to make him stay for as long as Mack will let him.

“Fitz… _Turbo_ , c’mon, turn around and look at me. Please?”

There’s a tremor in Mack’s voice that has Fitz turning around immediately. It’s something that he’s never heard from Mack - a wavering, cautious sadness that makes Fitz want to wrap Mack up in his arms and never let go. He settles instead for cupping his tea between his hands, unable to get past the defensive walls that make him want to hide before Mack can end them for good. As if hiding would stop the inevitable.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ve had my own reasons for keeping you separate from my home, and it hasn’t been fair to you.” Mack takes a deep, gusty breath before continuing. If he reaches out to brush his fingers against Fitz’s wrist, Fitz certainly isn’t going to say anything to break the spell. “You’re important to me. _We_ are important, and I don’t want you to ever feel like that isn’t the case, Turbo. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like it if you joined me for dinner tonight. At my place.”

Fitz’s brain shorts out.

It’s the only logical explanation, because no sooner do Mack’s words register than he drops his tea. All over. There’s scalding water splashed over his shoes and along the hem of his pants, but that’s all nothing compared to the joy that floods through Fitz’s system. Hands suddenly, _miraculously_ free, Fitz launches himself into Mack’s arms and doesn’t let go until the barista approaches with a mop and a stern word for the two of them.

With a grin on his face and a squelch in his step, Fitz allows Mack walk him to his next class, hand-in-hand and heart-to-heart. It’s sappy, and Fitz knows that later on he’ll roll his eyes over his own theatrics, but in the moment, all he can do is smile because everything is going to be alright.

Mack leaves him at the lecture hall door with a kiss and a promise to pick him up at six.

If the young minds that he’s molding seem a little less dim today, Fitz will just have to get over the disappointment later on, because it’s clearly the euphoria talking. Even in the moment he’s still smart enough to realize that not all miracles happen overnight.

* * *

“Oh my god, Mack! Stop the car. _Stop the car!_ ”

Even over the squeal of the brakes, Fitz can hear the put upon sigh from the driver’s seat, but he’s laughing too hard to really care. He’s out of the car in a flash, laughing all the way, and it’s only when Mack’s arms come to rest around his shoulders that Fitz remembers his words.

“Is _this_ the reason you don’t want people to know where you live? Please tell me that _this_ is the reason, and that you’re not secretly a republican serial killer with a wife and three kids.”

“Yes, Turbo.”

“Wait, what is that a yes to?”

Instead of answering, Mack ducks down to press a chain of kisses down Fitz’s neck.

“Oh my _god_ , Mack! Answer the question!”

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE FABULOUS [FITZMACKOTP](http://fitzmackotp.tumblr.com/)!!!!


End file.
